Restoration
by Shibata Kimiko
Summary: After the End, all is silent. Only two remain.  Continuation from End of Evangelion's final scene. Final chapter is up.
1. Chapter 1

It had been two days since Third Impact, and Asuka still hadn't moved. Her prone body laid half-in, half-out of the surf, blood-red water sloshing as far up as her waist. She knew the idiot Third Child was nearby, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. She'd lost. The most important fight, the ONLY important fight…and she'd failed. She'd been so confident, at the top of her game in a way she never had been before, and those verdammt walking corpses had ripped her apart like tissue paper…

She'd failed, utterly and completely, everything she'd hoped and worked for ripped away in a few moments of agony. The years of training, the long, dark nights spend reassuring herelf that she w_ould _be the best, her obsessive drive and will to always be on top, even her absolute refusal to cry or show any weakness…all of it was useless. In the end she _had_ been weak. Her Eva had betrayed her, failing her when she needed it the most, and in her last moments only two thoughts were to be found in her heart.

_This can't be happening, not to me…_

_I'm all alone. Nobody cares enough to save me._

It had been four days since the end of the world, and Shinji Ikari was hungry. He'd gone scavenging, finding a few surviving shops on the outskirts of the blasted, water-filled crater that the Geofront had gouged out of Japan's coast during Instrumentality. He returned to the seashore, starting a small fire and eating cold beans from a can. He sat next to his comatose companion, staring at the monstrous remains of their former coworker and friend. His face was flat, empty, the face of an old soul in a young body.

The sky never changed color anymore, he'd noticed. Everything was perpetual twilight. It seemed fitting. After all, as far as he could tell, he and the girl next to him were the last people on Earth. He glanced at the girl, taking her in. Her (to him) exotic red hair had finally dried out, fanning out across the pale white sand, contrasting sharply with the fading tan of her skin and the deeper blood red of her plugsuit.

Blood…

In his memory, Shinji saw it again. Unit 02, impaled by multiple Lances, torn apart by the monstrous MP Eva Series. His fists clenched silently as he again heard her dying screams, each one a knife of concentrated agony and fear stabbing into his soul as he watched helplessly. He saw her last moments, her mutilated, lifeless body sliding out of the crumpled, twisted plug, the girl he'd secretly longed for turned to nothing more than lifeless meat by the enemies he'd failed to save her from. He'd failed in this last venture, just as he'd failed at everything else in his life. He'd always known he was a failure, but he'd never cared. He'd gone through life following the orders of others, never questioning or making his own choices. It was easier that way. Even in piloting, he'd never made a decision for himself. Even then, everything he did was for someone else. And when it really mattered, when everything was on his shoulders…he'd failed again. The world ended, and Shinji Ikari knew it was entirely his fault.

It had been six days since her death and resurrection, and Asuka Langley Sohryu wanted to run away. She'd spent her entire life tackling problems head-on, trusting to her own abilities to get her through, but not this time. She wanted to run away, away from this dead sea holding the remains of God, away from this graveyard city, away from the Third Child and the failure that he and his surroundings represented. She sat up, slowly, glaring coldly at the boy sleeping next to her, wishing for a moment that she could still hate him, despise him, ridicule his weakness and bask in her own strength. Her own weakness stood revealed, though, and she found that the worst that she could muster was a sort of dull, sick envy. This boy had never worked for anything, never poured his heart and soul and will into a venture, never given all he had and more in pursuit of his goals. Yet here he was, without effort, without _sacrifice_. He'd let her die, refused to come to her aid when she needed him most, and yet some cruel joke by the God he'd murdered had forced them together again. She wanted desperately to hate him, to feel the old familiar rage boil up inside her chest and give her the strength to tear this pitiful excuse for a human being limb from limb, but she couldn't. She could only envy the course he'd chosen, how easy it must have been to do nothing for himself, to go through life without having to fight and scratch and bleed for what he desired.

She sighed, standing on weak, unstable legs, her injured eye and arm sending agonizing bolts of icy pain throughout her body. She took one step. Satisfied, she took another, then cried out in pain and betrayal as her knees buckled. She collapsed face-first in the ivory sand, shedding tears of rage and frustration. She had once been a warrior, proud, strong, and defiant. Now, what was she? A broken little girl, a shattered doll unable to even walk on her own. Her pride and strength, those two qualities that had shielded her from the world outside and her own inner pain, the traits that had taken her so far, had deserted her. She didn't deserve to be alive. She was a failure.

It had been seven days since he'd chosen a world of pain over a world of nothing, and Shinji Ikari woke up to the smell of cooking rice. He sat up, dull surprise registering through the fog of shock and guilt that had filled his mind since the final battle. He looked over. The girl had filled a small pot with bottled water, added rice, and put it on the fire. She was sitting silently, knees to her chest, watching the rice boil, her one remaining eye vacant and unfocused. She slowly looked over at him. The two children stared at each other, two shell-shocked souls thrown back into a world that had never given either one anything but misery and heartache. Shinji was the first to look away, turning his gaze out over the dead waters. His mind slowly ground into action, thought struggling to form despite the boy's mental fatigue. He was relieved that the girl was awake, but the guilt and horror came crashing back in, smothering this brief instant of light under a mantle of shame and self-hatred. He'd allowed this girl to die. By refusing to act when he could, he had murdered her. His bitterness grew, feeding on itself. What right did he have to be glad for her survival or his own? He was no better than his father. They were both murderers. If the girl wanted to attack him, injure him, even kill him…he wouldn't resist her.

A small, metallic clatter disturbed his thoughts. A metal mess kit had been tossed into the sand at his side. The girl had move d further down the beach, away from him, but she had left him half a pan of plain rice. He watched her slow, painful walk, wondering why she was being so merciful. He filled his bowl, never looking away from the girl though she seemed oblivious to his confused, uncomprehending stare.

It had been nine days since her failure, and Asuka Langley Sohryu woke up alone. She sat up slowly, looking around. The Third Child was gone. She laid back down on the sand, staring blankly at the bruised purple sky. Of course he'd left her. What good was she? She could see now what he must have known all along; that she was worthless, broken, nothing more than a petulant little brat demanding underserved attention and unearned praise. She had nothing to offer anyone, no purpose or value that would make him want to stay.

This thought provoked a small, dimly felt flash of anger in the girl's heart. So what if the boy left her? He was just as bad as she was, just as pathetic and useless and injured by the horrors they'd seen. Why did she keep thinking of him as if he was somehow important? He'd never done _anything_ for her. He'd let her die. She should hate him, body and soul… but she didn't. Not anymore.

She clambered slowly, painfully to her feet, staggering slowly down the beach. Her arm throbbed with every step, but the pain only drove her on. She would be damned if she was going to do nothing. Everything else might have been lost to her, but in her heart she was still a fighter. She would no longer allow herself to lay around, bemoaning her fate without attempting to CHANGE it.

After a few steps she collapsed to the sand, vomiting. Her arm was throbbing, every nerve screaming in agony. As her vision began to dim, the girl calmly realized that her wounds had gone septic. She was going to die. Shinji would be all alone.

_Shinji…_

_Don't leave me…_

_Please._


	2. Chapter 2

It was the eleventh day since Third Impact, and Shinji Ikari was worried. As he quietly skulked through the ruins of one store after another, he reflected feverishly on the reason for his current panic. He had returned from scavenging the other day to find Asuka facedown in the sand, barely breathing. Her face had been flushed and sweaty, her injured arm and eye visibly bleeding through their dirty bandages. He had no medical training of any kind, but he knew this was a very bad sign. She was muttering incomprehensibly in German, as if speaking to someone nearby, but the only word he could understand was "mama", which she repeated every few seconds. She was delirious. He knew he had to do something. He had been hunting through shop after shop, searching for anything he could use to help her, but so far he'd had no luck. He hadn't even been back to their beach in two days, and his panicked fears as to Asuka's condition were driving thoughts of his own failure out of his mind for the first time since he'd left his mother and returned to life.

In the permanent twilight, Shinji finally spotted a pharmacist's sign. He broke a window and crawled in, ducking behind the counter and beginning to go through racks of pills. He knew what he was looking for, if only he could find it. His fingers wrapped around a large bottle, stenciled in English letters with a Japanese label along one side. Shinji sighed, relieved. It was penicillin, exactly what he'd been hoping to find. He retrieved several tubes of antibiotic ointment from a nearby shelf, shoving them into a battered backpack he'd been using to carry supplies. On his way out, he stopped and grabbed a notebook and a package of pens, purely on impulse. He mounted the bicycle he'd been using to travel, quickly building up speed and heading for the beach. His mind was spinning as the ghostly face of the Last Angel grew slowly closer. He finally had a chance to redeem his cowardice…but did he really deserve it? He didn't think he did. Even if he managed to save her life, it would never wash away the blood on his hands from before. He'd murdered the entire world, caused the death of every human being. There was no redemption from that. He was just like his father after all.

He finally arrived back at the beach, leaping off the bike and dashing over to Asuka's prone form. He'd become much more athletic over the last few days, the constant strain of traversing a broken landscape helping to build lean muscle on his formerly skinny frame. He turned Asuka over, slightly relieved to see that she was still breathing. He quickly unwrapped her arm, but froze as the final layer of gauze fell away, revealing her injury. Her arm had been neatly bisected, and as its binding fell away the two halves of the flesh flopped apart, oozing blood. Shinji gulped, simultaneously holding back tears and vomit. This was HIS fault, he knew. If he hadn't hesitated, if he'd only listened to Misato and gotten to the Cage in time…he could've prevented this. He could've stopped her from being horribly maimed. He was nothing but a weak, spineless wimp, just as Asuka had always accused him of being. He didn't deserve to be alive, and he didn't deserve to have any companionship. He was so scared of being alone, though. It was the reason he'd returned to this world. He couldn't stand the idea of being alone, of never being able to talk to anyone again…so even though he wasn't worthy of life, he would do his best to save Asuka. Not because it was right, or because it was his duty, but because he was scared, and all he wanted was for her to help him, for her to sit up and yell at him…and stay with him. He just wanted someone to talk to.

He retrieved the antibiotic ointment from his backpack, along with gauze he'd found at a supermarket yesterday. He slathered the gooey paste onto Asuka's arm, trying not to look at it too much. Fitting the sides back together the best he could, he re-wrapped the arm clumsily in as much gauze as he could, trying to keep it tight. He knew he was doing it wrong, but it was the best he could do. When that was done, he gulped again and quickly pulled Asuka's eyepatch off. He gasped in horror at the empty socket revealed underneath, and this time he lost control of his stomach. He ran into the surf, vomiting and moaning, sobbing at the ruin of his former roommate, her beauty eradicated by his cowardice. After a few minutes, his stomach was empty. He wiped his lips, panting as he went back over to where the girl lay silent and unresponsive on the sand. He grimaced, filling the empty socket with another tube of antibacterial ointment and covering it with more gauze. Finally, he lifted her into his lap, her head resting against his stomach. He held her nose with one hand, then fed her two penicillin tablets and poured water into her mouth from a bottle. She coughed, spluttered, but swallowed the pills. Shinji sighed, disappointed that the water hadn't woken her up. All he could do now was continue to feed her the tablets and hope she woke up at some point soon. He gently slid out from under her torso, resting her once more on the ivory sand and moving away. He threw some more wood on the fire, wishing that he knew what time it was, or even what day. He had no idea how long he might have been inside Unit 01, and since their return there had been no sign of any time passing.

Digging in the backpack, Shinji pulled out the notebook and pens he'd grabbed earlier. He stared at them, trying to remember what he wanted them for. He'd never been a writer. The only creative writing he'd ever done was for school, and he only earned passing grades. That was him, all his life. Average. Ordinary. Invisible. Unwanted, unloved, and unnoticed by everyone around him. They pretended, they faked smiles and acted like they wanted him around, but Shinji knew the truth. His aunt and uncle only wanted him because of the money his father gave them. His teachers talked to him because it was their obligation. He'd accepted it. He'd never wanted anything out of life. He had no dreams or aspirations. It wasn't like he'd ever leave his mark on the world. Now that nothing mattered anymore, Shinji found that he wanted to write. He wanted to be able to show that he had existed, even if no one else would ever read it. He wanted to leave some trace of his existence. Pulling a pen from the pack, he opened the notebook to its first page and began to write.

_My name is Shinji Ikari. I'm 14 years old. I used to be a nobody, one of the invisible people who nobody notices, the ones you see on the street every day and think "oh, I recognize them", but don't really THINK about. I went to school, I did my chores, and I kept to myself. I never wanted anything from my life. I didn't really care about anything. When Father sent for me, the only real emotion I felt was resentment. He'd never wanted me before, but now that there was a "use" for me I was suddenly important to him again. I was bitter. I AM bitter. But living in Tokyo-3 with Misato-san and Asuka…I think it changed me. I started to care about people. I started to worry about the safety of Misato-san, and Asuka, and Ayanami, and the friends I'd made at my new school. I think I was finally starting to care about myself, too. About what happened to me. I laughed for real for the first time during this period. I was watching Toji and Kensuke goof off, and Kensuke managed to catch Toji ogling the girls on the running track during gym class. Toji was mad, and he started going after Kensuke, but they both broke up laughing. I started laughing too. I don't know why. It just….felt right, I guess. That was the first time I ever laughed with friends. The first time I ever HAD friends to laugh with, really. Everything seemed like it was going to be okay, even after things like the Twelfth Angel, where I almost died. I was wrong, though. I'm always wrong. It would've been better for me if I'd stayed with my aunt and uncle, if I'd refused to obey my father's command. Things just kept getting worse. Toji was almost killed in Unit 03 when it was infected by an Angel, and his injuries were done by my hands, after my father took control. I ran away, over and over again, but I kept coming back, all because I wanted my father to approve of me. I just wanted him to love me. That's not bad, right? That's not bad at all. Then the Fourteenth Angel came, injuring Asuka and Ayanami, and I was trapped in my Eva for a month. And the Fifteenth Angel broke Asuka's mind open and ruined her confidence….and the Sixteenth killed Ayanami, even though they said she survived. She wasn't the same. It wasn't her that came back from that explosion, it was someone else, and that just made it worse, because she was the person I'd started to care about the most. She was even worse than me, so closed-off and shy and quiet…but she was starting to open up. She smiled at me once. It made me happy. But the person that they were calling "Rei" after Unit 00's self-destruct wasn't her. It looked like her, but it didn't act like her. And then….Kaworu. Oh, God, Kaworu…I'm so sorry. I didn't want to do it, but you made me…you deserved to live, not me. I'm willing to murder my friends for my own survival, or let them die because I'm too much of a coward to go fight for them. You were at least a good person, even if you were an Angel. Maybe humanity was never meant to survive. But you made it so that we would. You made me kill you so you wouldn't kill us. I didn't want to…_

_And then the end came. It turned out that Ayanami was an Angel too, and my father made her begin Third Impact. I saw it while I was inside her. She took me into her, and showed me a lot of different things, more than I could understand. She murdered everyone on Earth, because I was scared and tired of being hurt. Their blood is on my hands. I can smell it. I can see it some days, and I can taste it in everything I eat and every breath I take. I killed everyone. You were wrong, Kaworu. Angels weren't humanity's enemy. Humans were always more dangerous to each other than any Angel could be. You made me kill you for nothing, because I just killed everyone else too. Even though I chose to come back, and chose to make it possible for them to come back too, it's all still my fault. Now Asuka and I are the only people on Earth. I killed Ayanami. I had to, to be able to come back. I killed the girl I….did I love her? I think I did. I'm not sure. She made me happy, I know that. And I killed her. It's her blood I taste, I think. Or maybe it's Kaworu's, the blood that stained my hands at the moment of his death. Either way, it's my fault. Everything is my fault, and now Asuka and I are the only ones left. Asuka should be dead. She died because I was too scared of my own death to go help her. She died fighting, at least. She didn't give up. She wasn't scared. She fought back. She's so much better than I could ever be. She's not a murderer or a coward. But I am. So why am I still here? I know I chose to be here, but why? Because I'm still a coward. I was more scared of death than I was of life. And now we're the only ones here. _

_I'm so sorry, Kaworu…you died for nothing, so that scum like me could survive._

Shinji closed the notebook, staring emptily into the flames crackling before him. He felt drained and tired, as if he'd lived a thousand years in the time it took to write out his thoughts and feelings. All of it was true, he knew. He HAD killed Kaworu for nothing. He'd killed EVERYONE.

And even now he was too much of a coward to kill himself to make up for it.

It had been fifteen days since her defeat, and Asuka Langley Sohryu awoke slowly. Her head was pounding, and it felt like there was a weight on her stomach making it hard to breathe. She felt a little better than before, though. Her fever felt like it was gone, and her arm wasn't screaming in agony now, though it still hurt more than any injury she'd ever had. She opened her eyes slowly, looking down. The Third Child's head was resting on her stomach, his eyes closed as he slept, curled up near her. The fire was still crackling nearby, so he must not have been asleep for too long. Empty pill bottles and ointment tubes were scattered near the fire, explaining why her arm felt so slippery. He must've been treating the injuries while she was unconscious. She stared at him, the expression in her single eye unreadable. Someone who knew her VERY well might have realized that she was, for the first time in her life, reconsidering her position on something. He'd tried to save her life, even though he knew she hated him. It didn't really matter to her why he'd done it. He'd probably saved her life…at least he was a good enough person to do that. She decided to take a risk. She spoke quietly, the sound of her voice the first real noise she'd heard since her death.

"Hey, Third. Wake up."

Shinji awoke with a start, sitting up quickly, his face flushing with shame. "I'm sorry, Asuka! I didn't mean to-" He stopped, eyes widening as the situation penetrated his still-foggy brain. "Asuka….you're awake!"

He pulled her upright and into an impulsive hug, sobbing. Asuka grimaced, groaning. "Let go of me, idiot. You're hurting me!"

Shinji flushed, quickly releasing his companion. Asuka shook her head, voice flat and quiet. "Why'd you do it?"

Shinji flushed, confused, equally quiet. "W-well, you told me to…"

Asuka cut him off. "Not that, moron. Why'd you give me pills and stuff? Why'd you waste the time?"

Shinji blinked. "Well….umm," he stammered. "I…I didn't want to be alone, I guess…and…I didn't want you to die again…" He looked away as he said this, his own shame at her death bubbling to the surface. "I know it was my fault the first time, Asuka…I'll never forgive myself for it. I couldn't let it happen again."

Asuka froze, shocked, but quickly recovered. She spoke again, still quiet. "And I'll never forgive you either. Remember that, Third. And don't touch me again without my permission."

She laid down on the sand, rolling away from Shinji and laying on her good side. Inwardly, she cursed her own cowardly weakness. She knew things had changed. He'd saved her life. He'd been keeping her fed while she did nothing but laid here on the beach. She didn't even really hate him anymore…so why was she still being so nasty to him? Was it because she was afraid of what would happen if she stopped? He might take advantage of her, or he might try to control her or order her around…but he wouldn't, she knew. He was never a leader. He wasn't capable of it. She didn't know what to do, so instead of trying something new she was being the same as always. She was pitiful. She couldn't change. It was hopeless to even try, a waste of effort and time.

She fell into a light, fitful sleep, her dreams filled with roaring leviathans and a single pitiful girl, begging for forgiveness and and rescue from horrors that never stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the twenty-fifth day since his resurrection, and Shinji Ikari was tired. He and Asuka hadn't talked since she woke up, though he was relieved that she seemed to be getting better. She was off scavenging right now, so he was alone on the beach. He'd continued writing in his journal, and yesterday he had decided that his friends deserved a memorial. Finding a shovel in a nearby hardware store, he'd gathered up wooden posts from an abandoned house, digging a hole for each one and etching the name of one of his friends on it with a penknife he'd taken to carrying. He did Misato's memorial last, crying as he pounded a nail into it and hung the cross pendant she'd given him on the nail. That was yesterday. Today he sat silently, staring at the graves. He felt hollow, empty, like his soul was missing. All of these people were dead because of him. Misato'd died protecting him. The others died when he decided he wanted everyone dead. What right did he have to make memorials and feel bad that they were no longer here, when he was the REASON for their absence? Shinji curled up on his side, shivering slightly in the cold air as he slowly fell asleep.

_Shinji sits on a train bench, everything saturated with a deep sunset orange color. The train is speeding rapidly down its track, headed for an unknown destination. Kaworu is sitting across from Shinji. Oddly, Shinji isn't surprised to see him here. The two stare at each other as the train screams past intersections, alarm bells blaring. Kaworu is smiling slightly, as if thinking of some private joke. Shinji's face is blank, unreadable, the face of a boy who no longer has enough strength to show emotion. Kaworu speaks first, his voice quiet and somehow ethereal. "Why are you here, Shinji?"_

_Shinji ponders this for a moment, his expression unchanging. "I don't know."_

"_You are here because of your own choices, aren't you?"_

"_Maybe. But why would I chose this?"_

"_I don't know. But you made the choice. Don't you understand why?"_

_Shinji frowns, small traces of guilt and surly frustration beginning to creep across his face. "I did it because I'm scared. I'm a coward. I didn't want to be alone, so I chose to live instead of staying dead. But it would've been better the other way, wouldn't it?"_

"_Would it?"_

"_I….I don't know. I don't know, so stop asking, okay?"_

"_Why?"_

"_Because you're making me uncomfortable! You're scaring me, Kaworu!"_

_Kaworu doesn't react to this, save to tilt his head slightly to the left, his expression mildly curious. "Is the truth really uncomfortable? Or are you only scared of it because you know that it's not what you think it is?"_

"_I don't know, damnit! I don't know!"_

"_Yes, you do. You just don't want to face it. You want to run away. But there's nowhere to run to anymore, and that scares you even more."_

_Shinji recoils, eyes wide and horrified. He shakes his head rapidly, voice rising in agitation. "No, that's not true! I'm just a coward! I know that's the truth!"_

"_If you're a coward, why did you choose to continue living?"_

"_I….I was scared! I didn't want to be alone!"_

"_You wouldn't have been. You're more alone here than you would have been if you had chosen Instrumentality."_

"_Only because Asuka won't talk to me! She ignores me!"_

"_She ignores you because you can't open yourself to her."_

"_She never opens up to me!"_

"_She's afraid too."_

"_That's not true either! She's not afraid of anything!"_

"_She was afraid when she died. She's afraid now. But you're driving her away by not trying to open up to her."_

"_Why would I want to make myself vulnerable like that, anyway? She'd just take advantage of me like everyone else!"_

"_Would she?"_

_Kaworu smiles, his tone kind, as if he understands what Shinji fears. "You're afraid of being alone, but you won't allow yourself to be vulnerable so that somebody else will stay with you."_

"_What does that even mean, Kaworu?"_

"_It means that you're caught in the Hedgehog's Dilemma."_

_Shinji frowns, confused and cautious. "What's that?"_

"_It's an old story. Hedgehogs are very social animals, but they're covered in sharp quills. In order to become close to one another they have to be willing to be hurt by each other. It's the same with Lilim. You want to be close to each other, but to do so means making yourself vulnerable and open to the possibility of pain."_

"_But….I'm tired of being hurt."_

"_Then you'll always be alone."_

_Kaworu suddenly vanishes as the train rockets under a bridge, seeming to accelerate. Shinji leaps to his feet, terror coursing through his body._

"_Come back! I don't want to be alone! I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE, DAMNIT!"_

_The train begins to vibrate, shuddering as if running over several bumps in the track. The shaking increases until it knocks Shinji off his feet. He falls down, into orange emptiness. It reminds him vaguely of LCL, though he can't feel it on his skin. He can feel the vibrations rolling through it, his body drifting this way and that as waves pass through him. He wonders if all of this has been a hallucination. Maybe he really did choose Instrumentality, and everything he remembers happening was only a dream. Maybe he hasn't decided yet, and he still has a chance. He sees Ayanami up ahead. She's floating in the orange mist, just as he is. She seems to be watching him, but she's getting further away. He reaches out for her, his hand almost brushing hers as if he'd suddenly appeared next to her. She looks at him and says_

Shinji blinked, the dream ending as abruptly as it had begun. Slowly, he realized that someone was shaking his shoulder. The person was muttering his name over and over, their voice tear-choked and oddly happy.

"Shinji, oh my god Shinji you're alive, you're alive…"

Shinji sat up, groaning. When he looked up, his eyes went wide.

"M-Misato?"

Misato Katsuragi was kneeling in the sand, soaking wet but otherwise looking exactly the same as the last time he'd seen her. She was sobbing, and as soon as he said her name she fell forward, wrapping him in a huge hug and knocking them both to the ground. He couldn't believe it. As he wrapped his arms around her, he remembered the last time they'd been together. She'd saved his life, first killing the JSSDF troops sent to kill him, then taking a bullet for him before shoving him into an emergency elevator. He knew she'd been dead before he'd reached the Cages. Her blood had been on his hands, literally. One more life he was responsible for ending. But she was here now, and even though he was ashamed for thinking it, part of him was relieved that there was an adult here to run things. He didn't have to worry about it anymore.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the sudden shock of Misato's lips pressing against his. She was laying on top of him, still trying to get her sobbing under control. "Hey, Shinji…remember what I promised?"

Shinji nodded, still stunned at her reappearance. "Y-yeah…."

"I meant it."

Several hours later, Shinji and Misato stood in front of the collection of memorials he'd made for his friends. Shinji watched silently as Misato said a quiet prayer over them, then gently retrieved her pendant from the marker with her name on it. She slipped it back on, then turned to Shinji, silently hugging him. She knew what he must be thinking right now. He must be blaming himself for all the destruction. He must think that everyone's deaths were his fault. That's why he'd dug the graves. It was his way of atoning for what he'd done. Misato didn't know how she knew these things. She just…did. Just like she somehow knew that Kaji thought she'd done the right thing in the end, and how she somehow knew that Asuka was alive too, even though there was no sign of her at their campsite. She wished she had some way to talk to Shinji about this, some way to help him see that it wasn't his fault, that he'd just been a pawn in a much bigger game. A lot of it was her fault, really. She'd failed to be a good guardian for him. She'd tried to be his friend, but her own fears always got in the way. She hadn't been there for him when he needed her, and when it really mattered she'd yelled at him instead of encouraging him. Still…she'd done what she could.

The pair walked back to the campsite, sitting in the sand, Shinji leaning his head on Misato's shoulder. The ever-present dusk made her hair look black instead of its original purple, and her face seemed somehow paler in the soft half-light. The dream he'd had earlier had mostly slipped from his mind by now, but one thing he could remember about it was someone talking about how you had to be vulnerable to be close to someone. Was this what they had meant? He'd opened himself up to Misato, showing her the gravesite he hadn't even shown Asuka. He knew she could hurt him, or make fun of him, or walk away. But he didn't care. He was too relieved to have someone around who would just sit with him like this without any expectations. She didn't want anything from him, or need anything. She was just…here. He found that for the first time in his life, he wasn't afraid of someone hurting him. He trusted her. Shinji allowed a small smile to creep across his face as he reflected on this. She'd keep him safe. She would protect him. He didn't have to be afraid around her.

Asuka returned some time later, carrying a satchel full of supplies. She found Shinji and Misato asleep on the sand, spooning. For some reason, Asuka wasn't shocked at all to find that Misato had returned, but this disgusting display made her stomach roll over queasily. She stalked over to the other side of the fire, dropping her bag and quickly falling asleep. As the three survivors slept, more bodies began to emerge from the sea. First one, then five, then twenty, then a hundred people. They kept coming in waves, most unconscious, but a few already awake and aware.

Shinji smiled in his sleep, holding Misato a little more tightly against him. Even in this state, he knew that things were starting to get better.

THE END

(Author's Note: Having moved the former final chapter to a standalone story, I wanted to make a small note here. Happy endings are what you make of them, people. I hope you enjoy this one, because you won't see very many of them from me. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the ride. It's been fun. I'll see you all again soon.)


End file.
